To link to the entire object, paste this link in email, IM or documentTo embed the entire object, paste this HTML in websiteTo link to this page, paste this link in email, IM or documentTo embed this page, paste this HTML in website

Got a letter jes' dis mawnin', suh, an' say I had ter laff,Come from dat colored gal yo' uster see me wiv so muchRecognized de writin', an I felt myself grow paleThought it more 'n likely she was workin' up a touch,But say, huh, huh, wal yo' oughtah seen dat lettah,If I hadn't been a laffin' swar to God I'd had to cryFoh she wrote to make digestion dat let's her an' me get marriedSaid she penitented all dem names she called me byHuh, huh, yas suh Tole me not to doubt herMe marry her after all I know about her.

Say yo' oughtah saw de answer what I sent her in reply,Got de boss to write it in de reddes' kind o' inkTalk about sarkastical mos' burned de papah upBet when she perused it, took her har all out o' kink,An' say, huh, huh, if yo' see a colored ladyHavin' de hysterics an' a prancin' like a goatYo' needn't ax her name, it is Phoebe Emma JacksonAn' her ravins are de symptom ob de lettah what I wroteHuh, huh, yas suh Her career am checkeredMe marry her when I know de lady's record.

ChorusWhat! marry dat gal? wal I guess no,Not if she grubbled on her knees to ax meWhat! me tie up to a bleach blon' coonwhat works me to de limit an' sack meI may not be so particklar wahmBut I guess I know 'nuff to keep out of de stohmWhat! marry dat gal when she used me so?I'm some kinds o' fool but dat kind? No!